


Sick

by imagines_in_a_galaxy_farfar_away



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Fairy Tale Elements, Gen, Mentions of Death, plauge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 03:05:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13449210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagines_in_a_galaxy_farfar_away/pseuds/imagines_in_a_galaxy_farfar_away
Summary: With a plague sweeping the town, no one is safe.





	Sick

Dark clouds hang overhead, and the wind blows cold through the dusty streets, warning of an oncoming storm. The village is unusually quiet these days, but with half the residents sick and the other half living in fear, what could you expect. Only the truly brave or desperate venture out anymore. The question is are you the brave, or desperate?

Shops and houses line the street, each looking like the last; sturdy structures of stone and wood. Every home you passed sat quiet and shut up tight, like the barn after dark, protecting the helpless folds of sheep from the dangers of the woods.

The clap of hooves break the fog-like silence, and you quickly step out of the way of a cart drawn by two tired horses. The wheels of the cart crunch against the gravel path, sending shivers up and down your spine. A squatty man with stringy blond hair drives the cart, as he passes he gives you a solemn nod but his gaze doesn’t linger long. In the back of the cart is a figure covered by a dirty sheet. That’s the third one dead this week, just one of the many lives claimed by the disease. There’s rumors among the townspeople regarding this plague. The most accepted is that it’s a curse cast upon the village by the mountain witch, but few have ever seen the witch, and you were beginning to wonder if he was even real.

Finally you arrive at your destination. Its one of the finer homes in town, belonging to the general, Armitage Hux, in charge of the men who guard the village from outside threats. Climbing the wooden steps, you stand on the balcony outside Hux’s door. Please let him be okay. You open the door and quickly shut it behind you.

The room is lit by a single lantern sitting on a large desk. In the corner stands Armitage’s unmade bed, the wool blanket you’d made him lay strewn across the floor. To the left is the stairs leading down to the kitchen where you hear an unmistakable clang. He’s alright! The stairs creak beneath your feet as you descend, alerting Hux of your presence.

“Thank God.” you sigh, releasing the tension built in your chest.

He stands in front of the fireplace, the flames inside illuminating the kitchen. Between you stands a table, that morning’s breakfast still decorates it’s surface.

“I went to the barracks today. When the troops said they hadn’t seen you, I began to worry.”

“My apologies,” His back stays towards you. “But you should go.”

“Leave? I just got here.”

He nods, bringing his arm up to cover a cough. “I’m not feeling well.”

A loud pop comes from one of the burning logs causing you to jump. You seem to always be on edge now. It wasn’t until then you noticed Hux’s current state. His normally well kempt hair lies in disheveled waves, even the fiery color seems dull. His white blouse is untucked and hanging loosely off his shoulders.

“Please,” he whispers. “Now isn’t a good time.”

At his words the air becomes uncomfortably stuffy, as the tightness returns to your chest.

“Armitage.” you step around the table. “Look at me.”

He doesn’t move so you take another step, reaching out to gently touch his arm. Slowly he looks to you. The light casts a hard shadow over half his face, but it can’t hide everything. His skin is ghostly pale, almost translucent. Hux has always been a thin man, but right now he looked skeletal. His cheek and collar bones protrude cruelly, his lips are dry and cracked, but perhaps worst of all are his eye’s. Green as ever, but red polluted the space where white should be.

You gasped drawing back your hand. This is how it begins, with a cold that worsens to something else entirely, followed by the eyes turning red. Within a couple days the victim is comatose, eventually they slowly succumb to malnutrition. Hux had been healthy just yesterday, at this rate he’d be gone within – no you weren’t going to think like that.

“You should go.” he repeated, leaning against the table for support. “You’re at risk here.”

“I’m at risk everywhere!” you cried. “We all are! You’re the strongest one of us how could you get sick.” warm tears blurred your vision. This was a death sentence.

He turns away again, unable to bear watching you cry. “Not strong enough to fight off a curse, I suppose.”

You couldn’t help but to scoff. “A curse… If it’s a curse then why haven’t we sent the troops after the witch to make him end this?”

“It’s not that-” his voice breaks followed by a series of coughs. “It’s not that easy.”

“Not that easy?!” you yelled, slamming your hand against the table, rattling the leftover plate and utensils. “People are dying! You are dying!”

“It’s not worth the risk! You know what happens to those who go looking for the witch.”

“So you’re just going to let this happen?”

Armitage slumps his shoulders, the only sound is the crackle of the fire. Did he really hold himself and this village to such unimportance that he’s willing to sit by idly while everyone suffers? Outside the church bell tolls, ringing through the air like the cry of a banshee; yet another life has been claimed.

“I’m not going to watch you die.” You finally grumble, wiping a tear from your face. “I’ll find that damn witch myself.”


End file.
